Wednesday, November 21, 2012

Cutting the burnt part off

The real moment when you realize you are grown up is when you wake up to put the turkey in the oven.  Pathetic child that just the year before you woke up to the smell of turkey baking.  This happened to me the first Thanksgiving that I was married to my ex-husband.  And his mother fixed a roast for the holiday...that should have been the first sign that he would become my ex. (I love me some turkey)

My memories of Thanksgiving are renewed every time I smell a turkey baking.  My mom got up at 5:00 a.m. to put the homemade stuffing into that bad boy and get his 20-26 lb. stuffed into the oven. The same oven that would have spent all day Wednesday pumping out 10-12 pies. (My mom was an over-achiever on holidays with food...okay, any day but the holidays were her Olympics). Our main complaint was in her stuffing she put those nasty pieces of chopped up liver and other bizarre inards that were made to be tossed.

And then, the family would come and various friends packing into the house.  Some made it every year, others fell away.  Our teenage boyfriends and girlfriends, later husbands and wives and kids like piss ants on sugar cookies.  My parent's house was big until we got older and it started to shrink with all of the packing in to eat and celebrate. 

The electric knife slicing thru the turkey, microwave beeps and the reminder to put the rolls in the oven.  It did not matter who was in charge those rolls got either too brown or burnt every year.  My mom and I standing over the cookie sheet, cutting off the burnt part.  I do not think I had an entire roll until we started buying the pre-baked ones.

And the feeding frenzy..."Who made this?" and "what is that?", "Is there any more cool whip?", "Can you get me a can of pop?" ....just the sound of it all.  Voices, laughter.
Afterwards we would play games and my mom and dad didn't want to play but would shout out the answers and we would yell, "Do you want to play or what?"  Shouts and cheating and more laughter, laughter.  And looking around and knowing, this is love.  It may be loud and dysfunctional at times and drunk and sober and crying and laughing and yelling and talking but THIS IS LOVE.

THIS IS LOVE.
Happy Thanksgiving to you all!

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

A decade

10 years ago today I went to the doctor with my oldest daughter Aubrey.   I thought they were going to talk about some surgery she would need, maybe she had ovarian cysts. She was 19 and I figured they wanted a parent to help her understand...
10 years ago today I found out my baby had stage 4 Ovarian cancer.
10 years ago today things changed forever.

When you go through this it is like some true definition of surreal...this is really what it is like.  Not real but you still are going through it, trying to breath through it, trying to make it through it. It being cancer.
So, on November 7th my world was rocked and on November 8th they took a tumor out of my girl the size of a magazine and 2 lymphe nodes the size of apples.  We were in the hospital for one week.
We came home and started the rounds to doctors.  Chemo started and stopped because of kidney issues and then a shunt and then back to chemo.
We hit every major holiday. Thanksgiving she could still eat. By Christmas we were shaving her head and hearing her puke.  Is there anything as sad as being 19 and getting your head shaved?  Or being too damn tired to do anything?
Needles and drugs. Blood transfusions and bottles of drugs. These were the longest months of my life. New Year's and finally February 14th we were done!
I think about these days often.  My heart breaks for every family that has to hear those words. It is cancer.
In the 10 years since I have changed.  Some times not for the better, there is a sadness that just sits in my soul... my child had cancer.  We came out on the other side but still, my baby had cancer.

Tomorrow though, we will celebrate that she has been cancer free for 10 years!  When I tell her I want to go out  and where does she want to go she tells me KFC.  This is the girl she is.  I laugh and say, somewhere better than that.  We will feast at Red Lobster and I will remember the months she couldn't eat anything without puking.  I will look at her hair with the new blue streak and remember the weeks with no hair. I will count my blessing that she is so wonderful she thought to include her Grandpa in our celebration. 
I will try to remember that every day is a gift, a powerful gift that we take for granted every day. A gift that we assume we will always have. A gift that I should be thanking God for every second of every day...
So, thank you God for every single day the past 10 years. 
And thank you for that Aubrey kid, we love her to pieces!

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Bossy Little Thing

Today is my Rachel's birthday.  24 years ago, after the hot, hot, summer of 1988 I was in the hospital holding this new little girl.  Silly me, I thought I had one girl and it would be the same.  Boy, she taught me a few lessons.
Rachel is my solid girl. She is black or white, not much gray. She is loyal. She is smart. When she was like 4 years old she asked if 4+4=8.  All of her teachers asked me what they could do to keep her busy and I told them to let her read, and she has like a crazy person. She tore through Little House on The Prairie and then on the Kill a Mockingbird. When she was in the 4th grade she asked me what a valedictorian was and then said that was her plan.  She always follows through on her plans.
She loves anything Disney.  Disney World is her happy place and Beauty and The Beast is her favorite.  She has spent hours with the Lion King.
When her sister was going through cancer she found Jesus. And Jesus found her. She went to Bethel to be a minister.
I have a lot of video of Rachel as a little girl.  You can watch her imagination and joy and bossy little ways over and over. She always knew what she wanted.
So for 24 years I have had this person, that her dad and I created in my life. She has made me happy, sad, proud, crazy and amazed in every way. 
In 1988, after a very hot summer I was given a really cool gift. Happy Birthday to my Rachel Leigh, Disney Princess, Golden Girl....here's to may more!

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Just a few short days..

Working for the school is a wonderful thing if you really don't want to work.  Summers off, Spring break, Christmas vacation and all those other holidays that they pay me for.  People who work year round have no sympathy for me when I say, "Ugh, after 10 weeks I have to go back to work!"  As a matter of fact I never say this to some people because I fear for my safety.  I honestly do not think I could work year round at this point in my life.
And at this point in my life I do not want to work at all.  And I am suppose to do this until I am 65?
Don't get me wrong, there are days I love my job...days that I laugh most of the day.  Other days, mmm, not so much.  It is never the kids that make me crazy or even my co-workers.  It is the parents who do not get it.  This is your child that you are suppose to care for, cherish...love.
So every year I dread giving up the free time to sew, float in the pool, stay up until 4:00 a.m. reading a good book. (The Dovekeepers by Alice Hoffman and Let's Pretend Like This Never Happened by Jenny Larson were 2 of the best this summer)  And now that Pinterest which could throw me over the edge for time...I just want to do what I want to do.
And I have figured out my dream job and everyone says I need a job with the health department but that is not it. (I would close everyone down)
I want to go through businesses and tell them what they need to clean.  I really try to keep my OCD on an even keel but I can't not see what I see.  I don't even have to be the person who cleans it but it would be cool to have a killer team that could go in and clean it up to my standards. And here I am to admit my dirty little secret:
When you say, "Don't look at my house, it's a mess" I always lie and say I won't but I do. Come on, I really have this OCD which I am sure is a mental illness so I have to look...I am not really even judging you, I am just thinking it needs cleaned up. 
And I gotta tell you, I was excited over "Hoarders" but then I realized that alot of people are living like that and I can never really clean it all.  But I try. I wipe the sinks in public bathrooms, I push the paper towels down, I pick up trash as I walk towards a store, and I always have a trash bag when I am walking the dog, not for poo I live outside the city, but for trash.
So....I guess I am heading back to school and employment. Ewww! I just want to sleep in and read 100 more books...oh, and get that cobweb by the t.v.

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Section D @ Meijer

When I go to Meijer, I don't know why but I park in section D or close to it. I figure I will always remember where my car is because there are times I am in that place for a looong time. (And today I verified that the front of the store is much hotter than the rest of it. I swear I get to the check out and start sweating, and it's not just because I am handing over a lot of cash. Then I think "Wow, can I somehow predict a hot flash?" Ah, no old age ESP, the cashier said the front of the store it hotter!)
So I push my cart over the bumps to my car and I spot her.
She is maybe 65 and has a little cart with one bag and she is lost.
I put my groceries in my van and go 2 lanes over. She can't find her car. I ask her the color and which door she went in. Then I start looking for her car with her. I can tell she is a little panicked. 5 aisles over I see a car and ask her if it's a Legacy. She sees where it is parked and is embarrassed by her confusion. I wish her a Happy Easter and my heart breaks for her. Is this the first time she has been confused or is it the norm for her? Will she go home and tell someone how silly she felt or will she not mention it? It strikes me that she is someone's mom. It bothers me that all the other customers watched and did not take the time.
So I go back to section D and drive my $180. home. But I will not forget her any time soon. It took me less than 5 minutes to help her. Less than 5 minutes to calm her down. Less than 5 minutes to give her a little hope.
5 minutes can make such a difference in a day. Such a difference.